


Grandma Shermie: Time Traveler Extraordinaire

by BuzzCat



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (but like as a concept and a conversation topic), (except Shermie is a girl here because Badass Grandmas is a thing in my family, Death, Gen, Minor Character Death, so I guess the Pines get one too)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-06-22 03:57:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15573231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuzzCat/pseuds/BuzzCat
Summary: Shermie Pines is a time traveler who the twins missed very much, Stan missed more, and Ford doesn't know what to do with. Prompted by Sogo -"How is it that of the three of us, I was thrown out of the house and later faked my death for three decades and I'M the normal one?" Shermie Pines is a bad ass time traveler. (Good-bye age paradox!)





	1. Shermie Pines: Time Traveler

Dipper and Mabel had waited for it all summer. They’d known it was coming, they knew they were prepared, but they waited impatiently like every day was the night before Christmas.

Grandma Shermie was coming.

And even better: Grunkle Stan didn’t know it.

The twins had decided before they even arrived in Gravity Falls that they weren’t going to tell Grunkle Stan about what Grandma Shermie could do. She’d told them she was coming, but not when. In fact, she was deliberately vague on all the details regarding the time she would come visit them that summer. But they were okay with that; besides, Grandma Shermie was always a little cagey about the details of any time she’d be visiting them. Something about wanting it all to be a surprise.

Of course, once Great Uncle Ford showed up, the twins were very surprised indeed about everything.

By the time Grandma Shermie showed up, they’d almost forgotten she was coming to visit. However, when the twins were sitting on the porch watching the leprecorns running around and waiting for Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford to wake up, they remembered very quickly the impending family reunion.

There was a creak that had become familiar to both of them, a sound like an old step in a house but the house was reality and the thing standing on the old step was Grandma Shermie.

In a flash of light, Grandma Shermie appeared in the yard, lit by the dim morning light. Mabel gasped and grabbed Dipper, shaking him and shouting,

“IT’S GRANDMA SHERMIE!”

The light faded to reveal a woman in her early-thirties standing in the yard, the trademark Pines family curls a mess on her head. The woman looked up and, catching sight of the twins, bent down to catch them as they came racing toward her. All three of them fell into a laughing pile on the lawn, each talking over the other to ask questions and answer said questions until Stan and Ford ended up standing on the porch, trying to take in the scene before them. Stan was the one to speak first,

“Alright, it’s far too early for this kind of racket. Mabel, sweetheart, I know you like making friends, could you maybe make them a little quieter?”

Ford, however, paid no attention to Stan’s words. He stared at the stranger as the three on the lawn finally stood up from the pile they’d fallen into. The identity of the stranger clicked and Ford’s eyes widened,

“Shermie?!”

“Hey guys. Long time no see.”

Stan could only stare. Moments passed in that silence, both brothers staring at their sister who was suddenly thirty years their junior and standing on their lawn. Stan was the first to move, running across the lawn and wrapping Shermie in a fierce hug. The kids watched, confused, and even Shermie seemed a bit perturbed.

“I missed you too, Stanley, but I mean, breathing sure is a nice concept that I miss, what with you squashing my lungs.” Stan made no move to loosen his hug. Shermie gave up and hugged him back just as tightly. However, she seemed to freeze when she felt tears soaking into her shirt. “Stan,” she said quietly, “what’s wrong?”

Stan opened his eyes, making sure that the kids were out of hearing range before saying quietly, “You died. Almost ten years ago.”

Shermie clung tighter to her brother, absorbing his words, “Oh. I forgot that’s how this time fit into that time.”

“I went to the funeral.” Stan clung harder to his sister, “You died, Shermie. And I haven’t seen you since. So what the fuck is going on?” The last bit was growled. Shermie slowly broke out of the hug and Ford chimed in,

“Yes, I’d also like to know exactly what this is.” Stan looked over at Ford, but it appeared that Ford hadn’t caught the earlier part of their conversation. Shermie, for her part, shrugged,

“I got challenged to this intergalactic time combat—”

“Oh, Globnar?” interrupted Dipper. Shermie blinked at her grandchildren,

“And exactly how do you know about Globnar?”

Dipper shrugged, “We got challenged to it.”

“We won because future people are really bad at laser tag!” Mabel said, grinning broadly. Shermie smiled, shaking her head,

“I am the opposite of surprised that you two managed to not only get challenged to the most feared gladiatorial combat in the entire universe, but come out of it in one piece. And with a time wish even.”

“Oh THAT’s how you can travel!” Dipper said, smacking his forehead. He started pacing on the lawn, “You always said it was just a gift from the future and we’d understand one day, but you won in Globnar! That makes so much sense!”

“But you’ve time-traveled more than once! What did you wish for?” Mabel asked. Shermie grinned and shrugged,

“I wished for more wishes. Time Baby wasn’t pleased, but he allowed it just for ingenuity. Apparently, no one had ever tried that before.”

“How is it that of the three of us, I was thrown out of the house and later faked my death for three decades and I’M the normal one?” Stan asked, throwing his hands into the air.

Ford groused from the porch, “I’d hardly call stealing the identity of your twin brother and turning his house into a tourist trap ‘normal’, Stanley.”

Shermie frowned, “Oh god, you two aren’t fighting, are you?” she whined, “Moses, last time I saw you both you had figured out all this crap.”

“Stanley and I were getting along?” Ford scoffed, “Unlikely. Perhaps you managed to pass into a parallel dimension for a moment before returning home.” Stan was facing away from him, so Ford missed the hurt expression that flitted across Stan’s face before being shoved under the rug. Shermie, however, did not miss that expression. She shook her head, all the mirth seeming to seep out of her. She looked at her brother and said with feeling,

“Ford, you have no idea what’s coming, so I’m going to let this one go. I’ve talked to you in the future and you warned me that this version of you would be a bit more cantankerous, but I’m going to tell you right now: shut up.”

Dipper’s mouth dropped open and Mabel’s eyes went wide. They’d never heard Grandma Shermie tell anyone to shut up. Ford, for his part, began sputtering,

“Well that is the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard. I am far from cantankerous; it’s Stanley who—”

“In the future I know, Stanley is called a hero.”

“He probably said that about himself!”

“ _You_ called him a hero, Ford.”

That shut Ford right up. Stan, if possible, looked more surprised than Ford. Shermie took a deep breath and had to consciously let the tension out of her shoulders, “I’ve already said more than I should,” she muttered under her breath. She looked back down at the kids, smiling again and pulled them both in for a tight hug. Kissing each of them on the forehead, she stood up and checked her watch, “Look, Shawn’ll be home from school soon and I really have to get back.”

“But you can time travel! Stay longer,” Stan said. The ‘please’ was written all over his voice. Shermie shook her head,

“Time travel is no excuse for being an irresponsible mother. And I’m really not in the mood to watch you two fighting. But I promise, I’ll visit again soon. I’m sorry I stayed away so long.”

“Bye Grandma Shermie!” Mabel said loudly, waving. Dipper waved as well, though Shermie could practically see his mind turning with questions. She looked again at her brothers. Stan had tears in his eyes that Sherme knew he’d brush off as the wind blowing dust in his eyes. She really shouldn’t have stayed away so long.

Ford, of course, was frowning in the way that crinkled his forehead just so. Shawn had the same expression when he was trying to do his math homework and Shermie had even seen Mabel make the same face when she got deep into her arts and crafts projects.

She took one last look at her family as they were before Weirdmageddon, where things got so much better and so much worse, and wished herself back home again.


	2. How I Died

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shermie comes back again and has a very frank conversation with Stan about death.

The next time Shermie Pines arrived, it was night. The gnomes were rustling in the bushes in search of edible debris from the tourists of the day, Gompers was standing in the middle of the field staring at nothing, and Stan Pines was on the porch, sinking into the couch like it could swallow him whole if he tried. He cracked the lid on a can of Pitt Cola, the hiss breaking across the quiet of the night.

Shermie Pines appeared in a flash of light, no warning of her arrival before the universe seemed to groan a little to make way for her to squeeze through some infinitesimal crack. Stan sat up a little straighter as Shermie tapped at her watch, readjusting some settings before she looked up. She nodded at Stan before approaching, stepping into the light from the house.

She was older this time. The grey in her hair was starting to fan out at her temples, wispy but there. There were more wrinkles on her face, though not nearly as much as Stan. And wearing a flannel bathrobe, of all things.

Stan watched her come up the steps before plopping onto the couch near him. She let out a sigh as she sat down, looking out.

“Nice night.”

Stan was torn between trying to memorize the sight of his sister, still living and breathing, and unable to meet her eyes. He settled for staring some place past her shoulder, taking in the fuzzy edge of her bathrobe. “What are you doing here, Sherm?”

Shermie turned to look at her brother. “I’m visiting, Stanley.”

“Why are you traveling in your bathrobe?”

“Why are you lounging in your boxers?”

Stan paused at that question before tilting his head in acquiescence. “Fair enough.” He took another sip of Pitt Cola. Stan let the silence drag on. It was easier to do that than try to talk to a sister who’d died ten years ago. And besides, he knew Shermie. She’d come to talk about something, and she’d start the conversation when she was good and ready.

“How do I die?”

Stan cracked a broken grin, eyes dropping to the floor. “Not gonna start me off with a softball one, are ya?”

“Nope. I just want to know if it’s something preventable. Something I can stop.”

 _A car crash in the dead of night in the middle of nowhere. The other driver fled the scene. You died painfully and alone._ “Nope. It was an accident.”

“Was my death an accident the way your death was real?” Shermie asked, sliding him a look. Stan frowned.

“There were a lot of people after me. People who knew my name, my real name.”

“And that’s why you never called Ma? Never told her that Stanford was alive and gone, that you were alive and here?” Shermie’s voice quivered and Stan couldn’t bring himself to see if she was crying. He looked out into the forest, waiting a moment before asking,

“What are you doing here Shermie? What happened?”

Shermie was quiet, staring down at her hands. Her wedding ring glinted in the night, her bathrobe sleeves falling just down to her first knuckle.

“Ma died today.”

Stan felt the words push the air out of him. Ma died about six months before Shermie. The last time he’d seen either of them had been when Dipper and Mabel were born, almost three years earlier.

“That sucked.” He said it plainly.

“Yeah.”

Stan waited for the next part of it. He knew what she was going to say but he wasn’t going to answer until she asked. Shermie finally looked up, looking at Stan’s face even if he only saw her out of the corner of his eye.

“We called you. You picked up but said you weren’t coming to the burial. You didn’t even come sit shiva with us.”

“I recall.” Stan’s tone was flat, a poker face with the best of them.

“And I believe you. I genuinely believe that you aren’t going to come to your own mother’s burial. Which is more than a hop skip and a jump from the Stanley I used to pick up every day before school so you could give Ma a proper hug.”

Stan gave no response, fiddling with the pop tab on the can. Shermie’s eyes narrowed.

“Stanley Pines. You tell me why you aren’t coming to Ma’s burial or I will raise a holy hell for you.”

“I went to the burial.”

Shermie’s anger faltered at that.

“You do?”

Stan nodded once. “I hid in the back. Figured if ghosts are real—and our knucklehead brother has good reason to believe they are—the last thing I needed was her haunting me for the rest of my life for not coming to the burial. I’m already going to catch hell for not sitting shiva.”

“Why did you hide in the back at your own mother’s burial?”

Stan took a second in answering. “Because I was dead. You all knew I was dead. And I know Ford was never that close with Ma after he came out here. Every time I called home, she talked about how she hadn’t talked to him in months. And I couldn’t be Ford for that. Not for that.”

Shermie had tears in her eyes starting to gather. Stan decided to pretend that tears weren’t a thing he’d ever known and therefore it was impossible for him to be crying. Shermie sniffled, wiping away her tears. Stan couldn’t look at her, but he opened one arm and she scooted over, leaning against him as the arm fell around her in the closest thing Stan could do to a hug. Shermie leaned into his stained tanktop, crying.

Stan didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything. There was nothing to be done. For him, it had been almost ten years and not a day went by that there wasn’t something that made him think of Ma. For Shermie, everything made her think of Ma and he knew it because he’d been the same way when she first passed. Everything hurt and he and Shermie both knew it was going to hurt for a long while.

Eventually, Shermie cried herself out. She sat up, sniffling and wiping at her red eyes. Stan gave her a moment before he looked at her, giving her space to compose herself. She may have just been crying on his shoulder, but they were Pines and Pines didn’t make eye contact when crying, as rule. Shermie turned to him.

“After the burial. Can I come back here? Just…just to talk? With you and Ford?”

Stan wasn’t sure how she thought she could ever get both him and Ford to have a conversation, let alone about their mother, but Stan would glue Ford’s butt to a chair if he had to to help Shermie. He nodded and she gave him a watery smile.

Shermie looked at her watch, “Well, I’ve got to get back. It’s about 3 am my time and I need to sleep in my own bed if I’m going to be worth anything tomorrow.”

“Take care, Shermie.” She stood up and Stan stood up as well. He pulled her into a hug, not as tight as the one he’d given her when she first showed up but tight enough to let Shermie know he needed this too. And the best part about hugs is that Stan didn’t even need to look her in the eye when talking about feelings. “You’re a nuisance older sister and you’re a pain in the neck ten years later, but I love ya.”

“I know. I love you too.” They stepped back from the hug. Shermie’s lips quirked in a sad smile. “And thank you. For letting me come here. I know I’m not around anymore at this point; having me just show up must make things a little—”

“Don’t apologize for that. Or even thank me for that.” Stan said fiercely, ready to fight if Shermie ever tried to mention it again. “You’re welcome here any time. Whenever. Just come by.”

Shermie nodded, the smile making itself a little more at home on her face.

“I will. Take care of yourself, Stanley Pines.”

Shermie closed her eyes and wished herself home. In a whoosh, she was back in her home with her husband asleep in their bed. She knew that tomorrow at the burial, if she looked in the way back, she’d see her brother. And right now, in the wee hours of the morning on the worst day of her life, that’s all Shermie really needed to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Bet no one thought I'd write a sequel! But here we are, contemplating our mortality like adults. Anyway, this story is marked as complete because I have no intentions of updating again currently, but sometimes the mood strikes six months later and we get updates. Subscribe if you want to stay in the loop!

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to fanfiction, where the rules are made up and the timelines kinda-sorta work if you squint really hard and cock your head to the left! Marked as complete because not sure if I'm ever going to update, but sometimes the mood strikes. Subscribe to stay in the loop!


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